Diamond Dyke Part 11

"Won't do them any good shaking them up so, will it?" said d.y.k.e.

"I've given up all idea of setting these," said Emson. "I should say it would be very doubtful whether they would hatch, and we want a little change in the way of feeding, old fellow. We'll see which are addled, and which are not."

Tanta Sal was at the door as they rode up, and her face expanded largely, especially about the eyes and mouth, at the sight of the eggs.

"I say, look at Tant," said d.y.k.e merrily. "Did you ever see such a face?"

"Never," replied Emson quietly. "She's not beautiful from our point of view."

"Beautiful!"

"Tastes differ, old chap," said Emson. "No doubt Jack thought her very nice-looking. English people admire small mouths and little waists. It is very evident that the Kaffirs do not; and I don't see why a small mouth should be more beautiful than a large one."

"And there isn't so much of it," cried d.y.k.e.

"Certainly not, and it is not so useful. No: Tant is not handsome, but she can cook, and I don't believe that Venus could have fetched water from the spring in two buckets half so well."

"Don't suppose she could, or made fires either," said d.y.k.e, laughing.

"Very good, then, little un. Tant is quite good-looking enough for us.--Hi! there, old girl, take these and keep them cool. Cook one for dinner."

The woman nodded, took the net, swung it over her back, and the next minute the creamy-white eggs were seen reposing on the dark skin.

After seeing to the horses, d.y.k.e made some remark to his brother about wanting his corn too, and he went quietly round to the back, where Tant was busy over the fire, preparing one of the eggs by cooking it _au naturel_, not boiling in a saucepan, but making the thick sh.e.l.l itself do duty for one.

She looked up and showed her teeth as d.y.k.e came in sight, and then went on with her work, which was that of stirring the egg, whose treatment was very simple. She had chipped a little hole in one end, big enough to admit a stick, and had placed the other end deep down in the glowing dry cake ashes, squatting down on her heels on one side of the fire, while Jack sat in a similar position on the other, watching his wife as she kept on stirring the egg with the piece of wood.

"Oh there you are, Jack," said d.y.k.e; "we've shot a big lion."

"Baas kill?"

"Yes. You're coming with us to skin it this evening?"

The Kaffir shook his head, and then lowered it upon one hand, making a piteous grimace.

"Jack sick, bad," he said.

"Jack no sick bad," cried Tanta, leaping up angrily.

As she spoke, she raised one broad black foot, and gave her husband a sharp thrust in the ribs, with the result that he rolled over and then jumped up furiously to retaliate.

"Ah, would you!" cried d.y.k.e; and the dog, which had followed him, began to growl. "Yes, you hit her, and I'll set Duke at you," cried d.y.k.e.

"Can't you see he's ashamed?"

Jack growled fiercely, and his wife reseated herself upon her heels, and went on stirring the egg again, laughing merrily the while.

"No sick bad," she said; and then wanting to say something more, she rattled off a series of words, all oom and click, for Jack's benefit, the Kaffir listening the while.

The egg was soon after declared to be done, and formed a very satisfactory omelette-like addition to the hard biltong and mealie cake which formed the ostrich-farmers' dinner.

"I'd a deal rather we'd shot an antelope, Joe," said d.y.k.e, as he ground away at the biltong, that popular South African delicacy, formed by cutting fresh meat into long strips, and drying them in the sun before the flesh has time to go bad--a capital plan in a torrid country, where decomposition is rapid and salt none too plentiful; but it has its drawbacks, and is best suited to the taste of those who appreciate the chewing of leather with a superlatively high flavour of game.

"Yes, it is time we had some fresh meat, old chap," said Emson good-humouredly. "After that slice of luck with the birds, we'll try for some guinea-fowl or a springbok in the morning."

"I wish we had a river nearer where we could fish," said d.y.k.e, as he worked away at the dried meat.

"Yes, it would be handy, if we could catch any fish; but we usen't to get a great many--not enough to live on--in the old days at home."

"Not often," said d.y.k.e. "I say, it is tough."

"Well, yes. A well-beaten-out piece would not make a bad shoe sole, little un. But about that fis.h.i.+ng? It would take a great many of those sticklebacks you always would fish for with a worm to make a dish."

"Well, they used to bite, and that's more than your carp would, Joe.

Why, you only used to catch about one a month."

"But, then, look at the size. One did make a dish."

"Yes, of only head and bones. Ugh! I'd rather eat biltong."

Emson laughed good-humouredly.

"Well," he said, "we can't go fis.h.i.+ng without we make a hundred miles'

journey, so we can't get fish. How would a lion steak eat?"

"Worse than a cut out of the poor old goblin's breast. But, I say, are we to go and skin that old savage to-night?"

"I'll go with Jack, and do it, if you're tired."

"That you won't," cried d.y.k.e. "But, I say, Jack's bad sick he says."

"Yes, I suppose so. He generally is now, when we want him to work.

We've spoiled Master Jack by feeding him too well; and if it wasn't for Tanta Sal, Master Jack would have to go upon his travels. That woman's a treasure, little un. She's a capital cook; and what a wonderful thing it is that it comes so natural to a woman, whether she's white or black, to like was.h.i.+ng s.h.i.+rts. Do you know, I believe that Tanta Sal would take to starching and ironing if she had a chance. Have any more?"

"No: done," said d.y.k.e, wiping his knife carefully, and returning it to the sheath he wore in his belt.

"Then let's go and have a look at the chickens. Why, the other day I felt as if I could open all the pens and say to the birds, 'There, be off with you, for you're no good.'"

"But now you're going to have another good try."

"Yes; and we must give them greater liberty, and try to let them live in a more natural way."

"And that means always hunting them and driving them back to the pens."

"We shan't mind that if they all turn out healthy," said Emson. "Come along."

"Wait till I call Tant," said d.y.k.e; and he went out to the back to summon the Kaffir woman, who came in smiling, cleared away, and then proceeded to feed her lord; Duke, the dog, waiting for his turn, and not being forgotten.

It was like playing at keeping bantams in Brobdingnag, d.y.k.e said, as they entered the pens pretty well provided with food for the birds, and going from enclosure to enclosure, armed each with a stout stick, necessitated by the manners and customs of their charge. For though it was plain sailing enough scattering out food for the young birds, which stalked about looking very solemn and stupid, the full-grown and elderly, especially the c.o.c.ks, displayed a desire for more, to which "glutton" would be far too mild a term to apply; while the goblin's successor, as king of the farm, seemed to have become so puffed up with pride at his succession to the throne, that the stick had to be applied several times in response to his insatiable and aggressive demands.